Time Heals All Wounds
by MoonBard
Summary: The Bajoran Orb of Time sends Worf and Jadzia Dax back in time to the Enterprise NCC-1701-D, just hours before K'Ehleyr's murder. Will Worf risk changing the timeline to save the mother of his son? Will Jadzia still be in his future? What will happen when these two strong-willed women meet?


The corridors of Deep Space 9 were filled with all manner of visitors as they came to the space station to see the Emissary on the day of the Bajoran Gratitude Festival. The Promenade was packed to overflowing with customers and the Ferengi Bar proprietor, Quark, was beaming with anticipation of a large haul of latinum. The food and drink were being served so fast, he could barely keep up with the demand. The Emissary himself, Captain Sisko, kept a low profile in his office. He had never been comfortable with his unsought role of spiritual leader. He himself was a scientific man, and felt a constant conflict of interest between his duties as a Star Fleet Captain and a religious Emissary to the Bajoran people. Still, the role of Emissary was one that he couldn't bring himself to relinquish for reasons even he himself didn't quite understand. A buzzer sounded.

"Enter," said Sisko.

Odo, the resident shape shifter and Constable responsible for security, came in and paused in front of the door.

"They're waiting for you at the Temple, sir," he said hesitantly. "You're supposed to give a brief brief speech in recognition of the Gratitude Festival…"

Sisko nodded and tossed his baseball absentmindedly, but he didn't reply or move to get up.

Odo hesitated. "Do you know what you're going to say, sir?" he asked bluntly.

Sisko shook his head. "I've been thinking about it all morning. I've decided to wing it," he said getting up heavily from the chair.

"Mmmm," Odo nodded his understanding. "I'm not one for celebrations either," he confided.

"It's not so much the celebration I mind as the sense of responsibility this position of Emissary brings," he admitted. "These people look up to me in a way that I don't think I've earned yet."

"If I might make a suggestion sir, just speak as yourself. Certainly, you have earned their respect as Captain Sisko, the man and Star Fleet officer."

"Thanks, Odo," Sisko smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."

And with that, the two left the Captain's quarters for the Bajoran Temple on board the station.

Worf stood by the transporter pad waiting for Jadzia. Jadzia had been invited to Bajor by a friend to celebrate the festival on the planet's surface, and she thought it would be a good opportunity for her and Worf to take a few days of R&R. The Klingon did not think highly of taking vacation time, and preferred hard work and exertion to resting. But it made Jadzia happy, so he agreed to it, albeit reluctantly. He stood in his uniform, carrying a small Star Fleet issue ruck sack, as if he were going on some military mission. Miles O'Brien manned the transporter and gave Worf a nod of greeting.

"So, a little getaway with the bride-to-be?" he asked, smirking. Worf and Jadzia had recently announced their intention to be married, much to everyone's surprise.

Worf glowered at him and actually growled. O'Brien was used to his surliness, having served with him for many years aboard the Enterprise, and was unfazed by the Klingon's response. He smiled with amusement at Worf's discomfiture.

Jadzia entered the transporter room looking radiant in a floral sun dress with her dark hair worn down. She was pulling a very large suit case. She gave Worf one look and clucked her tongue in exasperation.

"Honestly, Worf, a uniform?" she bristled. "Can't you just relax for one day?" she pleaded.

Worf stood rigid and unmoved.

"I will not discuss this in front of the crew," he admonished her.

"The _crew?_ " she mocked. "It's Miles, our _friend_!"

Miles shrugged and shot her a look of sympathy but said nothing. If there was one thing he had learned it was never to get in the middle of a domestic dispute.

Jadzia heaved a big sigh and took her place on the transporter pad.

The Bajoran Temple was decorated with flowers and fruit as symbolic offerings to the Prophets. People were crowded into the small room, all craning to see the Emissary Sisko, and waiting for him to give his blessing on this festival day. The ceremony consisted of some readings from the Bajoran Books of Prophecy by the reigning Vedek, Kai Winn, followed by some Bajoran songs to honor the occasion, sung by a children's choir. To end the ceremony, The Emissary would deliver his unrehearsed words of wisdom about the virtues of recalling the things we are grateful for. After the official ceremony, the food and drink would continue to flow, and the whole station would enjoy the festivities.

Everyone except for Captain Sisko, who at the moment was nursing an unhealthy dislike of Kai Winn. Kai Winn was her usual smarmy self, bestowing her insincere blessings on the Emissary in front of the people. Sisko knew that she harbored a deep resentment towards him for his closeness to the Prophets. She herself had never heard them speak before. They exchanged pleasantries with forced smiles as Kai Winn took her place at the Temple altar.

She held her arms up to signal the beginning of her speech, and the crowd quieted.

"Welcome all to the Bajoran Festival of Gratitude. May all beings here be grateful for the generosity of our host, The Emissary, Captain Sisko, for allowing us to hold this celebration in the light of the Celestial Temple, home of the Prophets!"

The people clapped and nodded, looking towards the windows to try to catch a glimpse of the stable wormhole that was known to them as the Celestial Temple. Sisko tapped his comm badge to signal a shuttle that was waiting for his command to enter the wormhole. Suddenly, out of nowhere appeared a flash of light, resolving into a circle of bright white. From it emanated a spiral of bluish purple waves that disappeared as they spiraled outwards, making it look like the eye of a celestial hurricane. There was the unmistakable hum of power that could be felt and heard on all decks of DS9 when it opened. It was awe-inspiring regardless of one's personal beliefs. The crowd issued a gasp of awe and delight and clapped again.

When they had quieted, Kai Winn began speaking. "And now, a reading from the unnamed book of prophecy written by Ohalu." She paused here for effect, but before she could continue there was a loud buzzing noise that came from behind her.

Startled, she turned around to see what could be causing it. Sisko jumped into high alert. A high pitched noise like that was reminiscent of a phaser on overload, but he quickly saw the true source. On a platform at the front of the Temple, there stood a large carved box, with purple oval -shaped gems fixed into all four sides. This was the Bajoran Orb of Time, one of the nine Tears of the Prophets delivered to the Bajoran people by the wormhole aliens, known to them as The Prophets. According to Bajoran legend, the orbs were sent by the Prophets to provide guidance and wisdom. This particular one had been confiscated from a Klingon spy, and was due to be returned to Bajor after the festival, to be kept at the Temple of Iponu. It had chosen this precise moment to activate, but the question was, why?

In the transporter room, Miles O'Brien had just initiated the transport sequence to beam Worf and Jadzia to the Bajoran surface. At the precise moment of beam out, the Orb of Time had activated, causing a massive surge in chroniton radiation around the station.

Chief O'Brien's training kept him from panicking, but his heart rate accelerated as he realized that his charges never reached the surface. He slapped his comm badge to reach Captain Sisko.

"Captain! There's been a surge of chroniton particles just as I was beaming out Worf and Jadzia. I don't know what happened! I've lost them!"

Sisko answered him slowly, "I know what happened Chief. It wasn't your fault…it appears that the Orb of Time has awoken."

Chief O'Brien paused for a moment to take this in. He knew all about the effects of the Orb of Time. It was capable of transporting an object or person through time and space. When they had first captured it from the Klingon spy, it had sent them back in time to the Alpha Quadrant to the original starship Enterprise try to stop a plot to alter Captain James T. Kirk's timeline. It was small comfort to know that Worf and Jadzia were alive if he didn't know _when_ or _where_ they were.

When Jadzia and Worf recovered their senses from the transporter process, they were startled at finding themselves in the transporter room of a Federation ship, staring at Miles O'Brien, who had just beamed them off of DS9. He appeared surprised to see them.

"Lieutenant Worf!" He looked at Jadzia without recognizing her. "And…friend? I was supposed to beam up two Klingon Ambassadors. There was an unexplained spike in chroniton particles during transport. How did you two end up here?"

"Where exactly is _here_?" asked Worf, now becoming alarmed.

"Uh, you know, the Enterprise," said O'Brien clearly confused.

" _Which_ Enterprise?" barked Worf.

"There's only one I know of," said O'Brien sarcastically. "NCC-1701-D"

"D?" barked Worf.

"Yes," answered O'Brien, now looking at him suspiciously. "When did you get promoted to Lieutenant Commander?" he asked looking Worf's uniform. When Worf was on the Enterprise, he was only the rank of Lieutenant until near the end of his service, when he was promoted to Lieutenant Commander. And the uniforms on DS9 were different than those on a starship.

"We are on a special mission for Captain Picard," lied Worf. "Excuse us," he said, taking Jadzia by the arm out of the transporter room, her luggage in tow.

Miles raised his eyebrows but took no further action. Worf _was_ the Chief of Security after all, and it was not unusual to have to obey commands from superior officers no matter how strange they might seem. He shrugged it off and succeeded to get a lock on his original targets and beamed them to the ship without further incident.

"What the hell is going on?" asked Jadzia in a whisper to Worf as they made their way through the corridors, trying not to draw attention to themselves.

"Chief O'Brien said something about chroniton particles. The last time that happened, it was caused by the Orb of Time, remember?" asked Worf.

"How could I forget?" replied Jadzia, smiling as she remembered seeing Kirk and Spock during their hey day.

"We are on the Enterprise again…my Enterprise," he corrected himself.

"Where are we going?" asked Jadzia as Worf continued to lead her.

"My quarters," he said.

"But aren't you afraid of what might happen if you run into yourself? Is that even possible?" she asked, now just beginning to think about all of the time-space anomalies involved.

Worf paused. "I hadn't considered that," he admitted. "Computer, where is Lieutenant Worf?" he asked to a comm panel in the hallway.

A female voice responded. "Lieutenant Worf is on the bridge, and in corridor 3 on deck 8."

"Oh my god," said Jadzia, now realizing the seriousness of the situation. "There are _two_ of you here!"

Worf looked at his watch.

"On a normal day I would be on bridge duty until 17:00 hours," he said. "We'll risk going to my quarters. I need a change of uniform," he said dryly.

They made their way to Worf's quarters with no incident. It was as good a place as any to take stock of their situation and make plans to try to get back to their own time.

When Worf entered his quarters he was taken by surprise at an overwhelming wave of nostalgia. All of his old personal belongings were there. It had been a time in his life when he was thriving, and accepted by his crew mates. He had been as happy on the Enterprise under Picard's command as he had been at any point in his life. It felt as if he still belonged there, as if he had never left. But he knew better.

"Computer, what is the date?" he asked out loud

"The year is 2367, Stardate 44246.3 " answered the computer.

"2367!" gasped Jadzia. "No wonder O'Brien didn't know me. _This_ O'Brien hasn't met me yet."

Worf stiffened as he thought about the Stardate. It was also the very day that K'Ehleyr had come aboard the Enterprise bringing his son Alexander, who was a surprise at the time.

"What is it?" asked Jadzia, sensing his distress.

"I have told you about my son Alexander and his mother, K'Ehleyr," said Worf, who had decided a direct approach was best. Jadzia was not fragile. In fact, sometimes she reminded him very much of K'Ehleyr, who had been his half Klingon, half human mate.

Jadzia smiled. "No one has more skeletons in the closet than me, remember?" she said. Jadzia Dax was a joined Trill, the eighth host of the Dax symbiont. Although Jadzia the Trill woman was only 33 years old, she held all of the memories of the other 7 Dax hosts.

"It's more than that," said Worf. "This is the day the she was killed by the traitor Duras."

Jadzia inhaled sharply. "Oh, Worf. What are you going to do?" she asked softly.

"I do not know. If I stop it from happening, that will change the timeline. If the future is altered too much, the world as we know it might not exist! We may never meet…or even be alive," he finished, his eyebrows knitted in dismay.

All of a sudden, there was a chirping coming from Dax's comm badge. She looked at Worf, shrugged, and answered it. "Dax, here."

"Dax, it's Major Kira, are you alright? Where are you?"

"Kira! What a relief. We're alright."

"Where are you?" repeated Kira.

"We're aboard the Enterprise…NCC-1701-D," answered Jadzia. "It's the year 2367. Kira can you get us back?"

"It's the Orb of Time," explained Kira. "It activated when you beamed out. I know how to recalibrate the transporter to get you back, like I did last time, but there's too much interference. You'll have to bide your time until it clears up and I can get a lock on you."

"Understood," said Jadzia. She walked around the room, taking in the details of Worf's past. He watched Jadzia with a mixture of embarrassment and uneasiness. Sometimes Worf was still uncomfortable with revealing personal matters, even to Jadzia. She was doing her best to cure him of this particular phobia.

In a small corner there was a shrine of various Klingon weapons. On the wall was mounted his Bat'leth. Jadzia smiled. "Cozy decor," she said in a teasing tone.

On a nearby table there was a small picture frame that housed the picture of a smiling Klingon woman. Jadzia picked it up, looking at Worf tentatively. "Is this her?" she asked, knowing full well it must be.

"Yes," answered Worf tersely, unwilling to share any further feelings about her.

"C'mon, Worf. I want to know what she was like," pressed Jadzia.

Jadzia was not one to be jealous or to shy away from difficult situations. That was part of what Worf found attractive about her. Like K'Ehleyr, she often used humor take the power away from dangerous or troubling situations. Now that he thought about it, he realized that Jadzia was very much like K'Ehleyr.

Before he could answer, the doorbell chirped. They both froze.

"We should ignore it," whispered Jadzia. "We can't risk too much interaction, especially since there are two of you on this ship!"

"Agreed," said Worf in a low tone.

The door buzzed again.

"I know you're in there, Worf. You can't hide from me forever," came a familiar musical voice.

Before they could do anything, the door slid open, and in walked a statuesque half-Klingon woman in a grey metallic suit. She wore a wry smile on her face.

"Don't look so surprised. I have my ways," she said, referring to the fact that she was able to override his door lock. The expression on Worf's face when K'Ehleyr entered the room was conflicted. He had loved this woman, and she had died in his arms. Yet here she was, smiling at him and very much alive.

"Cat got your tongue?" she teased him when he did not speak. Then she noticed a movement in the corner of the room. Jadzia stood there in her sun dress, uncertain of how to proceed. They hadn't had time to agree on a plan for this situation.

"Oh!" said K'Ehleyr, surprised. "I see you have a friend. Aren't you going to introduce us?" she asked, walking up to Jadzia appraising her somewhat critically.

"This is Jadzia," said Worf, struggling to settle on a course of action. "A…friend," he said decidedly. "Jadzia, this is K'Ehleyr."

"A _friend_ ," repeated K'Ehleyr in disbelief. "I didn't think you were the 'friend-making' type," she insulted him playfully. She held out her hand in greeting and Jadzia took it.

"Nice to meet you," said Jadzia, looking up at the Klingon woman who was a bit taller than she was. It was disconcerting. Given Jadzia's six foot frame, she rarely looked up at other women.

"You're a Trill!" said K'Ehleyr, just noticing the spots on Jadzia's face. "Who is your symbiont?" she asked curiously.

Jadzia hesitate for a split second, trying to think if she should tell the truth. A lie might be more dangerous and harder to sell, especially to a woman as discerning as K'Ehleyr.

"Dax," she answered, hoping that this wouldn't come back to bite her.

"Dax!" said K'Ehleyr in surprise. "Any connection to the famous Curzon Dax, the negotiator in the Khitomer Accords?"

Jadzia smiled tentatively. "The same," she answered. "I am Dax's eighth host. Curzon was the seventh."

"I didn't even know Curzon was dead!" exclaimed K'Ehleyr. This was the same year that Jadzia had become host to the Dax symbiont, and she hadn't anticipated that would be a widely known fact.

"Well!" said K'Ehleyr with a new interest. "Your friend and I have a lot to talk about!" she said, taking Jadzia's arm.

"Shall we go to Ten Forward and talk over a drink?" she asked, throwing Worf a mischievous look.

Worf and Jadzia exchanged a meaningful look. It was too dangerous to leave the quarters. What if they ran into the other Worf from this timeline? Surely someone would question how Jadzia had boarded the ship. She wasn't on the list of registered guests or crew.

K'Ehleyr saw the look of doubt flash across their faces, but misconstrued its meaning. Worf stepped in quickly, hoping to avert an issue.

"K'Ehleyr, with Gowron and Duras aboard and the Klingon Rite of Succession at hand, perhaps it would be better if we stayed here. Jadzia is not Curzon." The excuse sounded weak, even to himself, but he had to try to avoid any more contact with the crew. Fortunately, he had a very good memory of the events of that day in history. It was seared into his memory.

"Alright," said K'Ehleyr suspiciously. "Perhaps I should go. Clearly I've interrupted something," she said, moving towards the door.

"No!" said Jadzia quickly. She had no idea why she said that. She should have let K'Ehleyr leave to avoid any changes to the timeline, but she felt compelled to speak with her. She wanted to get some insight into this woman who Worf had loved. Worf's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Let's have a drink _here_ ," said Jadzia, now taking K'Ehleyr's arm and inviting her to sit.

K'Ehleyr smiled. "I'd like that," she said, now completely ignoring Worf, who was still standing in the same spot, frozen in indecision.

"Do you really have all of Curzon's memories?" asked K'Ehleyr.

Jadzia nodded. "For better or worse," she joked.

"That's incredible really," said K'Ehleyr. "After all that work you did at Kitomer, here we are, still scrabbling for power between ourselves like dogs over bones." She smiled wistfully.

"Well, that's true of most cultures," conceded Jadzia, "but at least the Federation and Klingons have peace."

"I'll drink to that," agreed K'Ehleyr. "Worf, don't just stand there. Get us some wine. Preferably _not_ blood wine," she added, making a face. "I never did like Klingon food."

"Really?" said Jadzia, now leaning forward. "I learned to love Klingon cuisine through Curzon. I still have a taste for it," she said laughing.

Worf rolled his eyes and got some wine out of a cabinet. He paused for a moment to look at a bottle of Saurian brandy, given to him by Geordi La Forge on the occasion of his last birthday. His last birthday in _this_ timeline. While Curzon Dax would have appreciated that potent drink, he decided it would be better to serve something milder to Jadzia. They had to keep their wits about them.

The women talked for awhile, mostly about Klingon affairs as Curzon Dax had experienced them. K'Ehleyr told Jadzia a humorous story about Worf when they had first met and Jadzia laughed so hard, she nearly lost her mouthful of wine. They were getting very relaxed, and appeared to enjoy one another's company immensely. Worf was worried that Jadzia would get careless and slip. He remained quiet during most of the conversation, and this was not lost on K'Ehleyr.

"You've been quiet," she observed. She looked at him closely now. "I hate to say this Worf, but you look older. Hasn't life been good to you on the Enterprise?"

Worf paused. He _was_ older, but he couldn't tell her that. Before he could answer, K'Ehleyr's comm badge beeped.

She tapped her badge. "K'Ehleyr here," she answered.

"I wish to speak with you about Alexander." It was Worf's voice.

K'Ehleyr nearly choked on the wine she had just sipped. "Is this some kind of joke?" she said, confused.

"This is no laughing matter K'Ehleyr. You have brought aboard a son I never knew I had. I wish to speak with you about it. I will meet you in your quarters presently," he said gruffly. The communication was terminated.

"What's going on here?" K'Ehleyr's eyes narrowed and she stood up, going into a defensive posture.

At this moment, Jadzia's comm badge beeped. "Kira to Dax," came Kira's voice. "Can you hear me?"

Jadzia had to answer. "I can hear you, Kira."

"The chroniton interference has passed. I'm ready to bring you back."

"Can you give us a moment?" said Jadzia. "I'll let you know when we're ready."

"Acknowledged," answered Kira.

"Bring you back where?" asked K'Ehleyr. "I'm calling security," she threatened, but Worf grabbed her arm.

"Wait!" he said. As he touched her arm, he was overwhelmed with pain at the thought she would soon be dead. He could prevent it, just by telling her. All he had to do was tell her, and she could still be alive. But then, what about Jadzia? The warrior in him regained control over his emotions. He looked at Jadzia, and in an unspoken understanding between them, he decided to tell K'Ehleyr at least part of the truth.

"I _am_ Worf," he began haltingly. "But I am from the future. There was a transporter accident involving chroniton particles," he continued. She looked unconvinced.

"You expect me to believe that?" she hissed.

"It's true," said Jadzia coming forward.

K'Ehleyr moved closer to Worf and looked at him more critically. "You _are_ older," she whispered in disbelief. "And your uniform…is different. You are Lieutenant _Commander_ now…"

"I am from the future. We are both from the future," he said, motioning to Jadzia.

K'Ehleyr circled around them, looking at every detail critically. Their comm badges were different, and Worf's uniform was not like any she had seen.

"What happens to _us_ then?" she asked Worf, who was now struggling to contain himself. "And Alexander. What happens to him?"

"I cannot tell you that, K'Ehleyr. I must preserve the timeline. You cannot tell anyone we were here," he pleaded with her, knowing her stubborn temperament.

"Well," she said, "If you won't tell me, then I am forced to call security." She reached again for her communicator, but Worf stopped her again.

"K'Ehleyr, please," he begged her again.

Jadzia cleared her throat. "In the future, Alexander is a good man. Worf is an officer on Deep Space 9 space station."

"Jadzia!" cut in Worf.

"It's alright to tell her that much," Jadzia argued. K'Ehleyr wouldn't be alive much longer to tell anyone. This wasn't information that would change any course of action. Now both women were glaring at Worf.

"There is no Deep Space 9," retorted K'Ehleyr.

"There is in our time," said Jadzia.

"And me?" asked K'Ehleyr. "Where am _I_ in the picture?"

Neither Worf nor Jadzia responded.

"I see," said K'Ehleyr, whose sharp mind grasped that their silence meant she was _not_ in their future for some reason.

"Well," she sighed, ever the pragmatic one. "It's clear that you are a couple…in the future," she said.

When they both showed signs of objecting she continued. "Oh please! Don't treat me like an idiot." She smiled wistfully.

"I never expected you to wait for me, Worf. Anyway, I approve," she said wryly. "If I can't be there to tame the Klingon warrior, who better than the successor of Curzon Dax?"

Jadzia smiled and took K'Ehleyr's hands in hers in parting. She worried that her expression wasn't masking her look of pity, and she was right.

K'Ehleyr looked pensive for a moment, then covered it over with a sarcastic smile.

"What. No hug for the mother of your son?" she said to Worf, being cheeky.

Worf, who had been avoiding looking into her eyes, now looked into them deeply.

"I…cared for you," he said. It had clearly been difficult for him to admit that.

"I'll take it," she said, embracing him for a moment.

Jadzia now stood next to Worf who nodded to her. She hit her comm badge, and said, "Kira, we're ready when you are."

As the transporter began the beam out, Worf and K'Ehleyr caught each other's gaze. She was smiling wistfully, and he maintained his stoic mask, even though he was pained inside. K'Ehleyr would see the other Worf in a matter of minutes, and they would argue over Alexander's future. But he knew this would be last last time he ever saw her alive.

According to Chief O'Brien, they had only been gone from Deep Space 9 for about 30 minutes. Once the commotion had passed from the activation of the Orb of Time, the festival had gotten back underway. Jadzia and Worf had had enough of transporters for one day, and decided to remain on the station for the celebration.

Worf consented begrudgingly to accompany Jadzia to the Temple to listen to Captain Sisko deliver his speech as Emissary. They filed into the back and stood shoulder to shoulder with all of the others waiting to listen.

Sisko stepped up to the podium, composed and serene. He took a moment to look around the room at the faces of those who had come. And from his heart, he spoke:

"As I look around the room, I see Humans, Bajorans, Klingons, Trill, Ferengi, Cardassians, Vulcans, Lurians, Changelings…people of all races standing together, celebrating the Festival of Gratitude.

I believe it was no coincidence that The Orb of Time chose this day, this place, this moment to activate. Our brief time in this life is exactly what makes things so precious. It is the fleeting quality of time that should make us take pause and truly appreciate those people and things in our life that give it value and meaning.

I am grateful for the gift of peace that allows us to gather this day. I am grateful for the friendship and fellowship of all present, and for my family. I am honored to have been chosen as your Emissary, by the Prophets who have given you guidance and wisdom these many hundreds of years. I am privileged to command this station, Deep Space 9, and to be part of a United Federation of Planets, exploring the universe, and hopefully, creating a better future for our children. I would urge you all to take a moment before returning to the festivities, and think of what you are most grateful for, for it is the nature of time to be fleeting. Thank you."

He stepped down from the front of the room, and there was a moment of silence as people reflected. Soon, people began talking amongst themselves, sharing their stories and thoughts.

"I am grateful that your speech was short and sweet," said Odo as an aside to Sisko and they worked their way to the exit.

Worf was silent and thoughtful, but eventually, Jadzia spoke and broke their silence.

"I am grateful that I had a chance to meet K'Ehleyr," she whispered. "She was a fine woman, and worthy of you, Worf. And I am grateful to be with you now."

"And I, you," replied Worf. "I am also grateful that I got to see her one last time, even though it was painful." He shifted his feet, as if uncertain about speaking again.

"When we were beaming down to the planet," he continued, "I was wondering what she would think of us, if she could see us together. And now, I know."

Jadzia's eyebrow raised. "I wonder if that is why the Orb sent you back to that particular place and time," she mused. "The Prophets work in mysterious ways," she said smiling and taking his arm.

"I do not believe in the Prophets," he replied, a little too loudly and gruffly. "But I believe in you, Jadzia," he added more quietly. He took her hand and they melted into the rest of crowd, to celebrate.


End file.
